Boyfriend

by Faye McCray

  “I don’t know. Why?” Natalie had asked.

  “Because you and that baby should have been dead,” Angie had responded reaching over and stroking her hair.

  “I thought of Aunt Laura,” Natalie said to me, growing teary-eyed.

  Two weeks later, after she was released from the hospital, she walked the almost seven miles back to the one-room apartment she shared with Chris. When she walked in, he was lying flat on the rug, staring at the ceiling with clouds of smoke surrounding him and stoned out of his mind. He looked at her as if he had seen a ghost and less than a minute later, a naked woman sauntered out of their bathroom. Natalie gathered her stuff and left. With nowhere else to go, she called Angie. Angie picked her up less than fifteen minutes later and took her straight to her house.

  “She just took me in. No questions. No conditions,” Natalie explained to me, clearly still swimming in disbelief.

  Although Angie never asked Natalie to pay for her stay, she did encourage her to pursue her GED. Angie also got her a part-time job sweeping up and washing hair at her daughter, Vanessa’s hair salon on the north side of Atlanta. Vanessa took an instant liking to Natalie. She trained Natalie as a stylist, a job Natalie described as “the only thing” she has ever been good at and paid for her to go to beauty school after Cole was born. When Vanessa went under contract to open a new salon in Harlem, she offered Natalie the task of being one of the salon’s lead stylists. With Natalie’s knowledge of New York, Vanessa thought she was the perfect choice for the new venture. Though reluctant to come back to New York, Natalie couldn’t pass up the opportunity to make life better for her and Cole.

  “It was bittersweet leaving Angie and Vanessa,” she explained. “They treated me like family… better than family. If Angie had never been assigned to my hospital room that day… if Vanessa hadn’t given me a job… I don’t know where I would have ended up. I don’t know where Cole would have ended up.”

  Natalie’s love for Cole could not have been a better reason to make the change. Cole was the kid I imagined I would have been had everything been different. He was funny, smart and head over heels in love with his mother. When I came home with Natalie that first day, he ran to her, leaping in her arms and smothering her face with tiny kisses. Natalie giggled, eating up every moment.

  “Hey, baby boy!” she said squeezing his sides and putting him down. He clung to her, peaking at me from behind her leg. “Cole, this is your Uncle Nate,” Natalie introduced. I smiled and waved. My experience with kids was limited. I wasn’t sure whether to shake his hand or give him a hi-five. “He’s going to be staying with us.”

  “Hi Cole,” I said, holding my hand out for a hi-five.

  “No,” he whined. I pulled my hand back. Clearly the wrong choice.

  “That’s his favorite word,” Natalie explained laughing. “Cole, show Uncle Nate the ‘Cole dance.’”

  Cole looked at me, sizing me up, then smiled coyly. He eased out from behind her leg and started to shake, turning around and shaking his butt. We laughed.

  “It’s a good thing I’m here,” I said, looking down at him smiling. “You dance just like your mother.” She shoved me playfully.

  Things with Natalie and I moved unexpectedly smoothly. I stayed in a tiny, windowless room adjacent to the kitchenette. With an old mattress and a used chest of drawers, I was more comfortable than I had been in months. Natalie worked a great deal. When Cole wasn’t in daycare, he was with her at the salon attached to her knee, ducking long cords and stray hairs as Natalie finished the final touches on her clients’ hair. When she got home, she was usually exhausted, so when we both became comfortable with it, I would watch Cole while she got rest.

  Cole had an amazing imagination. He could crawl around on his knees for hours rolling his little cars all around the apartment. It wasn’t long before I would get down there with him going on his pretend adventures and getting lost in the silliness of the childhood imagination. Playing with Cole reminded me of the purest moments of my childhood with Natalie at Aunt Laura’s. Tiring our little legs running across fields, swinging from tree branches like monkeys, and diving into lakes to cool off from the hot sun. I remembered the warmth of being wrapped in one of Aunt Laura’s oversized towels after coming back dripping wet and tracking small puddles through her house. She would smother our faces with kisses and feed us until we could barely move. It was love. An affection I felt for Cole very shortly after we met.

  ***

  It took me a little over two weeks to find a job. I attempted to apply for entry-level newspaper jobs, but with my lack of experience and the struggling economy, I never even got an interview. Ultimately, I ended up finding a job as a cashier at Gristedes, a local supermarket chain on West End Avenue, not far from Natalie’s salon. Keith Cho, the store manager, assured me that with my education, I would be a “shoe in” for management positions as they opened up. I wasn’t interested in management, but if it meant more in my paycheck, then I would try my hardest not mess it up.

  On my first day, Keith gave me a tour that took almost an hour and a half, showing me everything from the hand sanitizer dispenser located at the entrance to the store, to the trick to opening the latch on the loading dock. He was long-winded, wore trousers that were too short, and took his job very, very seriously.

  Keith was still rambling about their strict attendance policy when a girl in purple tights and a pink trucker cap snuck in through the ‘out’ door, narrowly missing an exiting couple. I watched her make her way into the store, smiling at the stock boys putting out the fresh eggs and tucking her black polo uniform shirt into her short black uniform skirt.

  “This is Allison Baksh. She works evenings and weekends,” Keith began, gesturing towards her as she made her way around us from where we stood by the registers. She stopped and tilted her hat upward and smiled, her dark brown eyes beaming mischievously, strands of dark brown hair hanging loose from under her cap.

  “And this is…” Keith continued.

  “Nate,” Allison finished, staring at me.

  “You know each other?” Keith asked looking at me. I shook my head slowly, studying her again. I was pretty sure we had never met, but considering the fog I had been in my first six months back home, I wasn’t entirely convinced.

  “Hey! Don’t put that there!” Keith yelled, rushing to where a confused stock boy stood beside a stock cart full of apples.

  “You’re Natalie’s older brother, right?” Allison asked looking at me, pulling off her trucker hat and unpinning the mop of dark hair piled on top of her head.

  I nodded. “Yes,” I answered, relieved that my sister was the connection. She was cute.

  “We went to high school together. I was in your sister’s class,” she explained, running her hands through her hair, smiling. Her white teeth beamed through her ruby red lips. She looked at me as if awaiting my recognition. “Wow, I thought we shared a moment back when we had cereal together in the cafeteria,” she continued.

  I laughed. “I don’t remember much from high school so don’t take it personal.”

  “I won’t.” She pinned her Gristedes’ badge onto her shirt. “How’s Natalie? I didn’t see her around our last year. Did your family move?”

  “She was in Atlanta for a little bit,” I began, suddenly feeling protective of Natalie. “She’s back now.”

  Allison nodded, smiling to herself. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a pack of gum. “Want?” she asked gesturing towards me.

  “No. I’m good,” I said as she popped a piece in her mouth.

  “Well, I can show you around, but I’m sure Keith did already.” She blew a small bubble and let it pop. “I work here,” she said walking over to her register. “If you need anything, I’m the girl at register six.” She laughed. “That totally sounds like a movie.” She punched a few numbers into her register and the number ‘6’ sign above her register lit up.

  “What kind of movie?” I asked.

  “Right her
e, ma’am,” she said to a lost-looking customer. “We’ll see I guess,” she said turning back towards me and smiling.

  ***

  “Cole, leave Uncle Nate’s feet alone,” Natalie scolded again. Cole looked up at her from where he sat at my feet playing my toes like piano keys and giggling.

  “I don’t care,” I said leaning back into the couch, cramming a spoonful of cereal into my mouth.

  “I do. Your feet are gross.” Natalie grimaced, looking down at my feet. She flicked on the television to a kids’ show. Distracted, Cole turned to the TV.

  “Ha. Ha,” I said between bites. “Hey, I ran into one of your friends from high school today.”

  “Oh yea?” Natalie tore into an envelope she had just gotten from the mailbox. “That’s surprising. I didn’t have any friends in high school.”

  “Allison… something. I don’t remember her last name. She works a cash register at Gristedes”

  “Asian? Glasses? Short hair?”

  “No, dark wavy hair with dark eyes. I think she’s Hispanic,”

  Natalie was quiet for a moment. “Oh, Ally Baksh?” she said smiling. I nodded. “I think she’s Indian or Guyanese. She was sweet.”

  “Cute, too.”

  Natalie shook her head disapprovingly while tearing into another envelope. “Leave my friends alone,” she said staring at the piece of paper she had pulled out of the envelope.

  “I thought you said you didn’t have friends.”

  “What?” Natalie asked, her eyes still fixed on the letter.

  “You didn’t even remember her, so she can’t be your friend.”

  “This asshole,” Natalie yelled slamming the paper on the table. Cole looked up from the television his eyes wide.

  “Mommy?”

  “Everything’s fine,” Natalie said, her eyes growing red. I turned up the volume on the television and walked over to where she sat at a small table, stopping to run my hand through his curly hair.

  “It’s all right, C, watch your cartoons,” I said looking at him. “What happened?” I asked Natalie, taking a seat beside her at the table.

  “Chris, Cole’s father,” she started. “He didn’t pay rent on the apartment in Atlanta,” she said picking up the piece of paper and handing it to me. “Now they’re suing both of us for six months of unpaid rent.”

  I shook my head looking at the letter. $5,765.25 was printed in bold red. “It’s going to be all right, Natalie,” I said touching her back.

  “I can barely buy baby wipes,” she continued, wiping tears from her eyes. “The salon is just getting off the ground. Did I tell you I had three clients last week? Only three, Nate! All week. We barely broke even last month.”

  I placed my hand on her shoulder, searching for the right words to say. I hated seeing her cry. I felt responsible. For any pain she felt then. For any pain she felt now. I should have been there. Years ago when she stood desperate in front of me, begging me to help her, I should have packed up her things and taken her with me. I should have punched my father in his hospital bed and spit on his aging face.

  Natalie buried her hands in her face and I rubbed her shoulder gently. “You’re not alone anymore, Natalie,” I started. “I know I haven’t been there for you in the past but I’m here now. Whatever you need… whatever Cole needs… I’ll try my best to give it to you. I don’t make much but I’ll try my best.” She looked at me, her eyes a mixture of emotions. I could tell she wanted to believe me; she just wasn’t sure whether she should.

  She stood and embraced me, pulling away and wiping the tears from her eyes. “I’m still a crybaby,” she said laughing. I laughed too, wiping a tear stain from her cheek.

  “Thank you,” she said squeezing my hand. “Oh and Nate…” she started just as I turned to walk away.

  “Yea?”

  “Don’t screw my friend!”

  “I can’t make any promises,” I said, laughing as I turned and sauntered back into the living room.

  ***

  Hooking up with Allison was the first thing I looked forward to doing since I graduated college. She was hot, a big flirt, and she had a sense of humor that never failed to make me crack a smile. Our chemistry was instant. It wasn’t long before our work days were full of inside jokes and meaningful glances. We’d catch eyes from our check-out lines, share a secret smile at staff meetings and look for excuses to be alone together during our shifts.

  “Who’d buy this?” she said one evening in the stock room, holding up a large package labeled “Easy Feet.” A small red box was affixed to the side of the package with the words “As Seen on TV” printed in white. I had been working at the store close to a month, and we had volunteered to do inventory for Keith, which meant at least a couple of hours alone in the stockroom.

  “What is it?” I asked, marking off an item on my clipboard.

  “Giant blue shoes with scrubbers so you can wash your feet in the shower without having to bend down,” she said laughing. “If you are standing in the shower already, you are probably not handicapped, right?” I nodded. “So why not bend down and wash your feet?”

  I shrugged. “Why would you if you didn’t have to?”

  “Nate, seriously? It’s $19.99! You can probably hire a professional foot scrubber for that.” We laughed.

  “You want one for Christmas?” I joked.

  “A professional foot scrubber?”

  “I meant the blue foot-washing thing, but if you’d rather a foot scrubber, I can give it a try,” I said, smirking.

  She smiled. “I don’t think you’d be good at that job.”

  “What?” I asked, my mouth dropping open in exaggerated offense. “I’d be the best foot scrubber you ever met. I’d get all in your toes. I’d even throw in your legs.”

  She laughed. “And you’d stop there, right?”

  I paused trying to recall the 15-minute sexual harassment video Keith had made me watch on my second day of work. Ah, fuck it.

  “I’d want you to get your money’s worth.” I turned to face where she stood and put my clipboard to my side. I looked her up and down slowly. She laughed.

  “What’re you doing after work?” she asked after a moment.

  “Nothing,” I said turning back to the items.

  “Cool.”

  ***

  That night, Allison invited me to a party at her friend’s house in Brooklyn. She called it a party, but it was really a dimly-lit room in her friend’s basement with a handful of twenty-somethings sitting around, getting high and watching music videos.

  “This is Nate,” Allison said when I arrived as if they had been expecting me. They looked up, nodding and giving me small waves. Allison grabbed my hand and led me to a bar area buried behind the vegged-out group. She chucked her small denim jacket to the side and scrounged for clean cups to pour us both a half of cup of passion fruit Alize. “Here,” she said handing me a plastic cup filled with the candy orange liquor.

  We both threw our heads back and drank. The sweet alcohol warming my mouth and burning its way down. She grimaced as she swallowed hers.

  “You sure this isn’t too much for you, little girl,” I teased.

  She smiled, taking a step closer to me. “You’d be surprised at how much I can take.”

  I shook my head and took another sip of my Alize. “Filthy,” I said laughing

  “What? I’m talking about drinking. I’m a skinny girl, but I can take a lot.” The playfulness was bursting through her sugary ebony eyes.

  “I bet.”

  She had changed before we left work and was wearing a tight white V-neck T-shirt and blue jeans. Even with her hair pulled back in a ponytail and not a stitch of makeup, she looked hot. What was the most attractive about Allison was that she didn’t seem to realize just how hot she was.

  “I have a crush on you, Nate,” she said, stepping so close to me our bodies almost touched. “I have since we were in high school.”

  Taken off guard, I didn’t speak for a moment
.

  She smiled, looking down as if blaming her empty plastic cup. “See, this is why I shouldn’t drink.”

  The embarrassment on her face was evident as her cheeks turned a muted red. She started to turn away, but I grabbed her hand and pulled her towards me. Our eyes met and I kissed her, snaking my hands around her waist. Her lips were wet and hungry. I ran my hand up her back and to her neck, running my fingertips along the base of her neck as we kissed.

  “Get a room!” someone yelled. Allison and I pulled away, breathing heavy and looking into each other’s eyes. She smiled as I ran my hand over my mouth, fighting the urge to grab her again.

  “Good idea,” she said not taking her eyes off me.

  ***

  Allison’s house looked abandoned from the outside. The small patch of grass in her front yard was overgrown and the brick stairs leading up to her front door were riddled in chips and missing fragments. The inside wasn’t much better. We entered through the cluttered kitchen. The table was covered in unopened mail and newspapers. Empty and partially empty paper cups littered the floor. As we made our way through the dark hallway to Allison’s room, we stepped over at least two sleeping cats.

  Given the mess we had passed, Allison’s room was not that bad. To the right was a full size bed pushed into the corner and to the left was a tall cherry wood dresser. Aside from a few sneakers lying around, the room was relatively clean.

  “I live with my mother,” she said plopping down on the bed. “But, she’s never here.”

  I sat down next to her. “Do you have any brothers or sisters?” I asked, wondering if at any moment her 6’5 older brother would come bursting into the room.